Crashing Down
by friends and p-f4ever
Summary: "I think I'm in love with you." That was all it took for your entire world to come crashing down, just those seven small one-syllable words.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The same story told in two points of view.**

"I think I'm in love with you." That was all it took for your entire world to come crashing down, just those seven small one-syllable words. Perhaps it wasn't the fact you declared this in the first place, but more the context in which you did so.

"Excuse me?" You feel a pang of sadness hit hard at your chest, stomach, and just about everywhere else in your body. Sure she is most likely over-come with a mixture of emotions, and at least she hasn't shunned you forever...yet, but then why does it hurt so bad? Were you expecting her to simply tell you she felt the same way? And when you think about it, you try to convince yourself that you had made your feelings clear all along and that this is more or less her fault for this moment being so tense. Memories flicker like an old movie in your mind and it only reassures you that this is her fault, she should have known. The seemingly innocent touches, the constant loyalty and obedience, the moment at the dance when it felt as though it was only the two of you on the floor, all of it sweeps over you. Now you're angry, and while a small piece of you knows you shouldn't be you can't help but clench your fists.

"I love you. There, I said it. What isn't to get? I'm the sick freak in love with their best friend, and have been for years." You can see tears start to well up in her eyes and all you can do is become more upset. Why does she deserve to cry when you're the one putting your heart out there only to most likely have it thrown to the ground. "You're my first thought in the morning, and my last thought at night, and while I know that sounds way to cliche to be true, it isn't. I don't want you to think everything I've done for you up to this point has been just because of my feelings, you're still my best friend and that will always come first. I just...my feelings are become overwhelming and if I hadn't told you I don't know how much longer I could have pretended I was okay."

You feel yourself digging your nails into the flesh of your palm and you're almost certain you'll draw blood, but at this moment the pain is the only thing reminding you you're still alive. Blue eyes blink at you and for a moment you think she'll say something back, but no words pass her lips.

"Okay." After a few long seconds of silence, she breaks it, only to make you wish she hadn't said anything at all. You berate yourself, not having really expected to hear anything different. But in the long run you should feel happy she doesn't seem completely freaked out by what you told her, so congratulations the worse case scenario was avoided. "Look, it's getting late. I'll just...talk to you tomorrow." And with that she's gone and once again you feel like all the oxygen in the world has left you to suffer.

(-o-)

"I think I'm in love with you." For some reason you're not as surprised as you imagine you'd be, not that you ever thought this scenario would ever occur in the first place. She's staring at you, biting her lip and waiting for you to reply but you can't seem to find the words. Part of you wants to love her back while the other part is screaming at you to get up and run.

"Excuse me?" You finally choke out, but after seeing the hurt expression that soon occupied her face you wish you had said nothing at all. It feels like the room is getting smaller and smaller and all you want to do is make it stop, but you know you can't and you have to be a big girl and take responsibility. Responsibility for what exactly? She's the one declaring her love for you, so why are you the one who feels guilty? You have a boyfriend and you can't recall doing anything out of the ordinary that could possible make her fall for you.

"I love you. There, I said it. What isn't to get? I'm the sick freak in love with their best friend, and have been for years." Tears start to form and you're not sure why. You refuse to believe that you could possibly feel the same way, even though somewhere deep inside the idea is sparked. Looking logically at it, maybe it wouldn't be the worse thing in the world and your mind starts to dwell on the concept of dating the girl in-front of you. "You're my first thought in the morning, and my last thought at night, and while I know that sounds way to cliche to be true, it isn't. I don't want you to think everything I've done for you up to this point has been just because of my feelings, you're still my best friend and that will always come first. I just...my feelings are become overwhelming and if I hadn't told you I don't know how much longer I could have pretended I was okay."

While you technically hear her continue on, you're not particularly listening. You're too focused at this point on listing all the reasons the two of you should and should not date. Aside from the fact she is a girl you can't seem to come up with any other real reason you two would not make the perfect pair, and while you never have claimed to have an interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with anyone of the female variety, you never seemed to denounce the idea completely. You can hypothetically imagine dating a girl, kissing one even, and while maybe you've been somewhat attracted to them in the past it never seemed unordinary until now. Suddenly the room is getting hotter and hotter and you're not sure you can take it much longer.

"Okay." You need to get out of there, away from her, away from your thoughts, and away from anymore reasons you can come up with that the two of you dating would not be a terrible thing. "Look, it's getting late. I'll just...talk to you tomorrow." As you walk out the door you can't help but stumble, your body high on so many different emotions your surprised it can function at all. Maybe you will talk to her tomorrow, or maybe you won't. But for some reason you force yourself to believe that ignoring the problem completely will allow it to dissolve with time.

Or so you hope.

**A/N: Please review. Oh and good luck figuring out who was who, because I don't even know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Didn't plan on making this more than a one-shot but I realized I quite enjoy writing in 2nd person. **

You glance at the clock on the wall to your right, fidgeting a little under the somber stare you're receiving from the girl across the table. You're looking for any distraction to give your attention to because you have a feeling this will end badly.

"Even though I've been dating him for only a few months...he asked me to marry him." Now your eyes are back to her and you can only imagine how far your jaw has dropped. You pull yourself back together though, scolding yourself for allowing your own emotions to possibly deter your best friend from being happy. And why should you care she's engaged? You have a girlfriend now, you've forced yourself to move on.

"That's...great. Congratulations." You force your words out, wanting to gag at the bitter taste they leave in your mouth as they pass your lips. You know you should be asking for details but the truth is you'd rather know as little as possible.

"Thanks. The thing is though...well the reason I asked you to come out with me is...I'd like for you to be my maid of honor." While in most cases the best friend would be excited to be asked such an honor, you feel like you're going to cry. Fact is you two have not been on the best speaking terms lately, and while it gave you the opportunity to pretend you let go, it also opened up a huge whole in your heart. And while here you thought perhaps it would be good to see her once again, as soon as she walked into the small cafe you knew you had made a mistake. She is your drug and you know that every-time you see her you fall right back off the wagon.

In retrospect though you'd love nothing more than to be involved with her wedding...if you were the one sharing the vows. But now is not the time to dwell on what will never be and it pains you to even contemplate how different both of your lives would be had she reciprocated your feelings.

"I'd love to." You finally reply, forcing yourself to smile just for a moment. She looks confused, almost disappointed in your response but nevertheless she is soon up and out of her chair, wrapping her slender arms around your neck from behind and thanking you. You let out a silent sigh, relaxing into the embrace as you close your eyes and take in this moment because you know it will not last.

(-o-)

As soon as you sat down at the cafe table you realized how bad of an idea this all truly was. It troubles you to watch her as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat and refuses to make eye contact. And while you watch the way her bottom lip traps itself between her teeth as she ruthlessly nips at it, you can't help but become mesmerized. No matter how certain you are that your feelings are completely platonic, there is still something about her that leaves you to wonder.

"Even though I've been dating him for only a few months...he asked me to marry him." You cringe as her fork clatters against her plate, yet you're sure she is so dumbstruck she didn't even notice. There's a long pause and you can only imagine the various thoughts that must be filtering in and out of her mind. You can tell by the way her jawline seems to tighten that she's clenching her teeth, a habit she's always had in tense situations.

"That's...great. Congratulations." You can tell the words are forced out and yet that's not what seems to upset you. What upsets you is her passivity toward the situation and her willingness to keep up this tongue-in-cheek facade she seems to have adopted. But something inside of you criticizes the outlook you have chosen. Maybe she's not being as malicious as you believe her to be, and perhaps she is sincere in her congratulations. Has she really let go of her feelings for you that easily? You inwardly groan, remembering that she has a girlfriend now and yet you still feel as though something has been stolen from you.

"Thanks. The thing is though...well the reason I asked you to come out with me is...I'd like for you to be my maid of honor." The cogs in her head are turning and you swear you can almost hear them, her gaze uneasy as she tries to keep her focus on you. You know that this is highly unexpected, especially since you have not seen her for almost a year. She distanced herself from you and you did the same to her, so it's no surprise she can't seem to fully comprehend your last question. Sure she's still your best friend, and if anyone said differently you would object in a heartbeat, but the relationship has changed. You're both young adults now and although you would have never imagined it happening back in high school, your lives are not on the same path. The world had taken you both into it's grasp and released you in different places, neither of you whole-heartedly wanting to succumb to this fate.

"I'd love to." And once again you feel somewhat put off by her answer. You force the feeling down as you stand from your chair and walk over to her, snaking your arms over her shoulders and across her chest. You feel her stiffen slightly before relaxing into the embrace, and for a moment it feels like everything is back to the way it was.

Or so you hope.

**A/N: There will probably be more chapters. I have a few ideas but who knows.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. This originally had taken a completely different route than what was finally created. Enjoy.**

"Can I have your attention please?" You shakily stand as the voices in the banquet hall die down to a murmur before silencing completely, all eyes now on you as you clear your throat. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you're almost certain everyone can hear it, almost as certain as you are that this is the worst day of your life. "I've known the bride for years, and to finally see her getting married is a dream come true for the both of us. To see her as happy as she is and for her to be marrying the man she loves can only lead me to believe that dreams really do come true. And doesn't she look beautiful in that dress?"

All eyes shift from you to her and you audibly sigh in relief, grateful to have everyone's attention off of you for the moment. Her face is flushed as she grins shyly at her guests, whispering something into her husband's ear before looking at you. "Words cannot properly describe how happy I am for you. You're my best friend and I love you more than anything else in the world. If he wasn't marrying you then I probably would." Your audience laughs and you fake a smile, pushing down the bitter feelings building up inside of you and ignoring the intense stare you are receiving from the bride.

Sitting back down next to her and taking a sip from your champagne glass, you feel her hand on your thigh as she gentle rubs circles with her thumb against the material of your dress. Even with the cloth barrier you still feel as though her fingers are against you bare skin. But that's the way she's always made you feel, naked. She's always brought out the vulnerable side in you, promising to never hurt you when you reveal it to her. Tears start to build and you excuse yourself from the table, briskly walking toward the powder room on the opposite side of the function hall.

As you reach your destination you fall apart, gripping the countertop in front of the mirror and looking at your reflection. Your makeup in smudged, streaks of black running down your face as you scold yourself for not wearing waterproof mascara. Perhaps you had convinced yourself that you were stronger, that there was no need to prepare because you weren't going to break down. Laughing sickly at the irony, you turn towards the door as you hear someone step into the room.

Before you even have a chance to speak you're being pulled into their arms-her arms. You've shown her your vulnerabilities once again and she's there for you, running her fingers through your hair as you sob into her shoulder. You feel selfish, this is her wedding day and she's comforting you. Pulling away slightly but keeping the embrace, your eyes meet hers as a chill runs down your spine. She's studying you, her lips drawn thin as she concentrates on every feature of your face.

"Your speech was beautiful." She speaks quietly, running her hands from their previous position around your waist to your shoulders. She pauses, biting her lip as tears of her own begin to form and roll down her cheeks. You expect this to be the moment she tells you to get out of her life, that your feelings have become too much for her to handle anymore. "I'm so sorry."

You're so stunned by the apology that you almost fail to notice the hands now cupping your face and drawing you closer. Her thumbs brush across your skin, smearing your makeup even more. "I should have done this a long time ago." As soon as the last syllable reaches your ears she closes the remaining distance, her mouth moving desperately against yours as though it's the only thing keeping her alive.

A voice in your head keeps telling you to stop, but as your bodies intertwine and stumble onto the couch in the corner of the room, you pay no mind to it.

(-o-)

"Can I have your attention please?" She's shaking slightly and you can't say you're surprised. You knew this was going to be a hard day for her and you can't help but feel grateful that she even showed up. Your new husband takes your hand under the table and squeezes it gently, lacing his fingers with yours. You smile softly at him, though in the back of your mind you know something is wrong. "I've known the bride for years, and to finally see her getting married is a dream come true for the both of us. To see her as happy as she is and for her to be marrying the man she loves can only lead me to believe that dreams really do come true. And doesn't she look beautiful in that dress?"

Within a blink of an eye everyone's attention is on you, your face heating up not only from the stares of over fifty guests but also due to the benevolent compliment you were just given. Turning as though to whisper something into your husband's ear, you stop yourself before any words come out. For some reason you feel trapped, caught in-between wanting to tell him you love him and wanting to cry out for help. "Words cannot properly describe how happy I am for you. You're my best friend and I love you more than anything else in the world. If he wasn't marrying you then I probably would." Everyone in the room laughs and even she tries to put on a façade, but you can tell by the small down-turn in her smile that she was honest in what she had said.

As soon as she sits down your hand finds its way to her thigh, causing her to heavily swallow the champagne she had been sipping. You're not quite sure who's breathing speeds up, yours or hers, but you are sure of the small spark that runs through you as your thumb continues its pattern against her clothed skin. You begin to see her face tense up, the corners of her eyes tightening as she tries to hold back tears. She excuses herself from the table and begins to stand, your hand sliding off her leg somewhat harshly, almost as if she had rejected it.

Her steps are ragged and her pace is rushed as she makes her way across the hall, no one seeming to notice the distraught young women as she throws the door to the powder room open and enters. Even though you had been playing this scenario out in your head from the moment you asked her to be your maid of honor, a small speckle of doubt still led you to believe everything would have been fine. You numbly feel your new husband run his nails across the exposed skin of your shoulders, leaving a light kiss near the hollow of your neck. At that moment everything seems to fall into place for you, the simple act of affection leading you to a conclusion you wish you had made sooner. His touch is lifeless, every kiss feeling just as dull as the last and never causing you to crave more. Your thoughts deepen as you think back on the times you've made love, if that's even what you would call it. It had been unsatisfying, and while perhaps it fulfilled its main purpose, it never went beyond it. Yet as soon as your hand touched her you felt that familiar feeling you had come to believe was nothing more than static electricity. Without a word you rise from your seat and swiftly make your way through the same door she had disappeared behind a few moments ago. She's standing at the mirror, gripping the countertop so tightly her knuckles have begun to go white. She turns to face you as you step in, mascara running down her cheeks as she visibly tenses.

As you pull her into your arms and allow her to cry into your shoulder, you only confirm your previous suspicions. It feels right, and while perhaps it is not the happiest moment, there is still something hovering under the surface as the two of you embrace. You push her away slightly, making it easier for you to be able to look into her eyes and gather what emotions just may be swimming around. Her lids are puffy and red, a huge contrast to the pale complexion of the rest of her face.

"Your speech was beautiful." You mean for your words to present themselves confidently, yet they only come out as a little more than a whisper. Running your hands from her waist to her shoulders, you stop before allowing yourself the chance to roam any further. Though these emotions seem to have sprung on you all of a sudden, in actuality you know they have been building for years. She looks frightened and you can only imagine the outrageous thoughts that are floating around in her mind as you try to hold back tears of your own. "I'm so sorry."

Every muscle in her body freezes in surprise, giving you the opportunity to gently cradle her face in your hands as you attempt to wipe away some of the blotched makeup. "I should have done this a long time ago." You're almost certain that you've muttered the last few words into her lips, overcome with desire and need that you feel as though you may have exploded had you waited any longer.

While you know that something inside of you should be telling you how wrong the whole situation is, you're too lost in the feel of her body against yours that the thought does not fully strike you. Clothes are soon being shed as you push her toward the couch in the powder room, initiating the first of many love-making sessions with the girl beneath you.

Or so you hope.

**A/N: Next chapter (if I even write one) will be up eventually. Please tell me what you thought.**


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